Those That Wander
by Obi Cadaver
Summary: Legolas is attacked, and used as a lure for Aragorn. Can Aragorn see through the trap, before others get hurt as well?
1. Chapter 1

Alright, this is the first time I've ever written an Author's Note thing, so bear with me. This is a short story about Legolas and an encounter at the sea. It was originally planned to be Aragorn fic, and this was to be the first chapter. However, due to a few emotional circumstances, I gave this story the axe. However, I read it to several wonderful people, who encouraged me to continue. So, depending on the reviews I receive, I shall decide whether to let Legolas live, or to let him die. Let me know what you think! Thank you so much for your time.  
  
  
  
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Those That Wander  
  
Legolas managed to slip away from the crowded city-fare of Minas Tirith, as he had done nearly everyday now. His friends knew he traveled to see the surf of Belegaer, and with many of their own businesses to attend to, they left him to his seclusion. Arwen, the Lady of Rivendell, would be coming in three days. After her arrival, Aragorn would be crowned King, and they would wed. It was a marvelous occasion for Gondor. Legolas promised to stay for the marriage, but that was all. He feared the call of the Sea.  
  
Yet, he was drawn to it also. Many are warned to avoid the door that will seal their fate. Most of them do. But Legolas was not one of those people. Curiosity may kill the cat, but one day, it will genocide his people.  
  
This is why Legolas came often, and alone. He was not afraid to challenge his fate, but it was needless to draw others into it. They wouldn't understand anyways.  
  
He could see it now, though it was still far away. It seemed to tower above him, like so many buildings of the city, except it was wider and fiercer. Even from this distance, he could see the surf issuing over its belly. A salt breeze licked his face and combed his hair. It chilled him to be so close, and he drew his cloak more closely about him. Despite all his troubles and fears he continued, like a loving child to an abusive father.  
  
Legolas set foot upon the beach's scattered sands, never sinking like a mortal might've, and strode effortlessly across the beaten shore. Broken sand hid any paths that might lead the Elf, but he needed it not. He knew full well where he was going.  
  
He soon found a place where several large boulders stood in a stance against the angry ocean. The tide frothed violently around them, but they stood nonetheless, ever defiant. But even stone can keep up such a precarious defense, and Legolas knew it. Eventually, the rock would erode, and so would his heart.  
  
As he climbed onto his favorite perch, the thought suddenly struck him to look behind. There, some distance behind, walking in the exact same steps as Legolas, was a man. He was tall and heavily cloaked, all in black. The hood of his cloak left a shadow on his face, and a mark of foreboding on Legolas' heart. But he gave the man little heed, and continued his climb to the top of his mount. There he sat, facing the sea. Now he could feel the cool ocean spray on his face with every slap of the waves.  
  
"How rare it is to find an Elf in these lands; and rarer still to find him alone. That is unwise, my friend."  
  
Legolas glared at the man. "Do you mean to threaten me?"  
  
"Why should I threaten you? One of the Silvan Elves, who lighten hearts at their very appearance."  
  
"You needn't be so insulting." Legolas said, and looked back to the Sea.  
  
"I apologize. I mean to be truthful, not insulting."  
  
Legolas regarded him again, and was shocked to see him standing directly beneath. He was leaning on the rock with his elbows, hands on his face, watching Legolas cautiously. The man's face was young and fair, and his unspoken eyes were blue, with white caresses, like the Sea itself. This only made him look more sinister, though Legolas could not place why. All his mannerisms were unnerving. Inside, Legolas felt the need to get away. His intuitions screamed at him for remaining. He can only do harm! Why do you remain?  
  
Yet, the door now stood before him, and Legolas was determined to open it.  
  
"Do you mind?" Legolas asked.  
  
"I was about to ask you." The man replied, with a shrug of his broad shoulders.  
  
Legolas decided he'd had enough. "What do you want? Tell me, or leave me in peace."  
  
The man pulled himself onto the rock next to Legolas and looked evenly into his eyes. Legolas raised his hand in reaction to the sudden movement, and went to push him off again. But slowly, his hand froze in the air. In fact, he found he couldn't even flinch. Something about those eyes bore so deeply into his soul, that it captivated him. He silently cursed himself for being so weak. He tried again to move his wrist.  
  
The man reached up and experimentally put his thumb on Legolas' forehead. "You know, Master Elf, I think I like you better when you are unable to speak."  
  
Legolas couldn't even grimace. He could only return the glare.  
  
The man pushed Legolas onto his back, and began to search his pockets. Finally, Legolas found the stamina to move again. He threw up his hand and hit the man in the nose with the palm of his hand. The man jumped back and grabbed the injury, blood oozing from his hands and onto Legolas' tunic.  
  
Legolas tried to push himself up, but he was still stiff and lethargic from the enchantment. The man pulled him up by the shirt collar and pushed him off the rock. Legolas' head hit another boulder and he slipped into blackness. The man leapt easily off the rock and landed next to him. He pulled out a dagger, a weapon he had formerly concealed. He leaned over Legolas and slit his throat. He continued his search and left, leaving Legolas bleeding on the shore. 


	2. Chapter 2

Alright! Thanks to all the nice people that reviewed, I've decided to go ahead and continue. Thank you all who encouraged me! I even have a few new ideas now. Thanks for the inspiration, you guys are the best!  
  
At any rate, for the people who doubt Legolas could survive a slit throat, I just want to point out that, depending on how deep the cut is, he could make it. I wanted to show that the cut was not so deep. but that just wouldn't fit any where in this chapter. Maybe the next.? You never know.  
  
Enjoy!  
  
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Those That Wander  
  
Chapter 2  
  
Now in Minas Tirith, Spring had finally felled the Winter and sprung forth in all his glory. In much the same way, Aragorn finally revealed himself as the King of Gondor. The darkness surrounding the city had fallen, and the Star shown down upon it. The King had returned, and ever shall he remain.  
  
Aragorn, lovingly called Ellesar by his people, had spent the first few days of his reign overseeing the rebuilding of the City, redefining the boundaries of his kingdom, and visiting the families of those who had fallen in the war. It was a grim task, but necessary, as it set his grip on the kingdom more firmly. It helped if the people knew who their lord was.  
  
And yet, not all of his work was so disconsolate. The realm of Sauron had been destroyed, never to assail the free peoples of the world again. The Ring-bearer and his servant had accomplished their mission, and returned safely. Aragorn made sure they were held in the appropriate esteem. And, more dear and closer to his heart, his beloved Arwen was coming to take his hand in marriage, by the grace of her good father, Elrond.  
  
Just when Aragorn thought he had already seen the Sun, he realized he hadn't even been looking at the sky. How wonderful he felt! He never imagined he could have this kind of joy. Was this a dream, or was it for real?  
  
He stood now in a garden of Minas Tirith, where blossomed now the White Tree, descendant of Nimloth. Its white flowers opened in the morning, and faced it the king. Even the tree seemed to sense his joy, its branches dancing elegantly with each gentle breeze. He regarded it in silence, as he reflected on the many beautiful, wonderful things that had seemingly fallen right into the palm of his hand.  
  
As he pondered these things, Gimli the Dwarf came and stood silently beside him. Aragorn smiled down at him.  
  
"Friend Gimli, you know you always have permission to speak in my presence."  
  
"It most certainly isn't that Aragorn. You are not my lord. It's just that you seemed to be lost in some deep thought."  
  
Aragorn laughed. "And I was. I rarely have any time to myself these days."  
  
"I'd hate to overburden you further."  
  
"Nonsense. What do you need?"  
  
"Nothing, save the comfort of your thoughts."  
  
"What is wrong?"  
  
"It is nothing but a feeling. I feel almost foolish telling you this, but it's as if an unfriendly eye has been watching us."  
  
Anyone else might have laughed at the dwarf, but Aragorn knew better than to ignore the instincts of any creature, no matter the stature. Still.  
  
"That is indeed a strange thing to hear from a dwarf." Commented Aragorn. "I might expect something of the sort from Legolas."  
  
"That concerns me also." Gimli said, with a shake of his head. "The time for Legolas' return has not yet passed, but this feeling that something might've happened to him."  
  
Aragorn set his chin and closed his eyes. Those words had unsettled him, though his own doubt was great. It didn't seem possible that anything could go wrong. But it couldn't hurt to go check on Legolas. It might even be fun to see how irritated Legolas would get to see their unnatural wariness.  
  
"Would it ease your heart, Master Gimli, if we went in search of him?"  
  
Gimli nodded. "And if you think no better of it, than I say, let's be off! Let's take our weapons, and be quick! Every moment we tarry works against us, I forebode."  
  
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Legolas was trapped, lost in an unawakeable consciousness. The darkness gripped him, refusing to release him from its clutches. It was as though his repose was a being in itself, holding him close. Legolas subconsciously fought it. He had to wake up!  
  
"You can't expect to win."  
  
Legolas wasn't sure at first whether it was a voice or simply the wind. He decided to concentrate on his being. Maybe he could break into consciousness.  
  
"Give up." The voice spoke again.  
  
"What do you want with me?" Legolas asked it.  
  
"Not you, Elf." The ominous voice spoke again. Legolas gave an involuntary shiver as the message seemed to echo around him.  
  
"Who then?" Legolas asked. He did not like the idea that he was being used as a snare for someone. To him, it was cowardice; almost as horrible as the ignominy of being the chosen pawn. The answer to his question was a cold, musky silence, which was not an encouragement.  
  
Legolas struggled even more now. He felt as though there were some unaccomplished task for him to perform. He had to get up somehow and warn this person so connected with himself, before it was too late!  
  
But the stiffness that held him earlier was ever relentless, and held him still. The spell bound upon him so heavily, he was nearly incapable of voluntary movement. He thought though, that while he had his strength and determination, he could fight it. He had to. Not only his life depended on it!  
  
A cold mist seemed to brush against the left side of his body, both pushing and pulling him in a strange fashion. It confused him, as well as the soreness in his throat. His memory failed him, and his breath came in slow gasps. Soon, he felt as though he'd have to fight for even that.  
  
Finally, though it seemed as if he had fought for hours, he was able to open his eyes. Most of his trials at once became clear. The tide had risen with the waning day, as one who rejoices the sight of a dying entity, and was beginning to brush over him. The mercurial ocean nipped at him greedily, an Elvish trinket to feed its murky depths. It was reddish tinge, red, he realized, from his own blood.  
  
It occurred to him, as he gazed at his blood traveling with the happy salt foam, that strange were the many things he had taken for granted. The simple ability to move, to breath, to live! He had seen many battles and passed through many dangers without so much as a scratch. As an Elf, he faced mortality as one would a myth. How real it all seemed now!  
  
Even as he pondered this, he became aware of two beings approaching him.  
  
"Behold! He comes now." The voice interjected again. Legolas moved his head, though it pained him, to see Gimli and Aragorn. They had seen him, and were running towards him. Lurking in the shadow of a rock ledge a distance behind them, was yet another dark figure. This figure lifted his hand, and giving Legolas a terrible look, set a finger to his pursed lips.  
  
Legolas wouldn't have it.  
  
Aragorn reached him first and knelt down beside him. He took Legolas by both shoulders and lifted him somewhat.  
  
"Legolas! Are you awake? What happened?"  
  
One word. One word would've been enough to warn Aragorn of the danger. But the word stuck in his throat as his consciousness ebbed. It was as if the being knew what he was trying to do. Legolas felt as if he was leaving himself, the darkness craved him once again.  
  
Legolas watched as the creature pulled out a bow and arrow. He aimed it straight for Aragorn's heart. Legolas could tell, even from this distance that the arrow wouldn't miss. The one word that could save his friend had been caught in his throat.  
  
Words will not serve. Actions must do instead. Legolas reached up slowly and wrapped his arms around Aragorn's neck. Just as The arrow left its string, Legolas pulled Aragorn to the ground with him. Aragorn lost his balance and landed on top of Legolas. The arrow soared over both of them.  
  
Aragorn was alright, for now. But Legolas lost consciousness before he could make sure. 


	3. Chapter 3

Um. hi! ^_^'  
  
I'm not really totally satisfied with the way this chapter came out. I just feel like it's missing something big. Can't think of what though, and my brain's starting to hurt. *sigh* Oh well. I hope nobody reading this will feel the irritation I am right about now.  
  
That and I consulted a map of Middle-earth. only to discover that Belegaer is no where near Minas Tirith. .' Okay. I'm just going to pretend that it is. (Use your imagination, children! It's fun! Wee!)  
  
Oh, and I wrote this chapter listening to "You're Not Alone," from the FF9 soundtrack, and looking at a lovely picture of Ewan McGregor! I have no idea what the relevance of that is to this story, just that I think that it captures the mood perfectly. ^_^' Maybe I sort of see Ewan as my wonderful villain. might be a good role for him. We'll never know. Yes I am strange. So dig out your FF9 midis and Star Wars Episode 1 screenshots and enjoy! :D  
  
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Those That Wander  
  
Chapter 3  
  
The wind picked up as Aragorn and Gimli approached the beach. A storm was brewing over Belegaer, a really nasty looking one too. It came suddenly, as though it had been provoked by some unknown source. It hung over the ocean, waiting for an appropriate moment to strike the shore. As far as Aragorn could tell, it might hit land in about an hour, maybe two. Not that he was very bothered about it. He rather liked the wind, and the rain would be a refreshing change, although, he was now suffered to listen to Gimli's frequent complaints about them.  
  
"This is indeed a queer sign, Aragorn! Even the elements can sense it! Surely, you can feel it as well?" Gimli asked him.  
  
Aragorn sighed, but didn't offer an answer. He honestly didn't think there was anything to worry about. He half-expected to see Legolas any moment now, hearty as ever. It was hard to believe that anything could've happened to the ambrosial Elf; much harder to accept that anyone would want to hurt him.  
  
But, what if something had happened? On the odd chance that this was the case, Aragorn could never forgive himself if he had not been there for him.  
  
When they finally reached the shore, the two of them stopped momentarily. The Sea greeted them with uncharacteristic enthusiasm. It beckoned them forward with sinister glee, a naughty child with a new toy. Aragorn shuddered as he looked into its depths. It was almost as if Belegaer knew something he didn't.  
  
He didn't exactly like that feeling.  
  
Pay it no mind, he told himself. This was just foolishness. Find Legolas. and leave quickly.  
  
And where was he? Shouldn't he have been around here somewhere? The area was strange looking. There in the distance was a large outcropping of boulders. A long time ago, when the Sea was higher, the boulders were on top of a cliff. They had long fallen from that place of safety, into the shadow of the cliff and broke against the coming fray. The ocean crashed into them unmercifully. The tide would soon rise, nearly covering them.  
  
Aragorn could see no sign of Legolas ever being there, but that may just have been the Elvish in him. He realized then that it was going to be a lot harder to find this one than of his other subjects. Other creatures left at least some sign of their presence.  
  
Aragorn took a quick look around. There didn't appear to be anything out of the ordinary, and he suddenly felt the need to hurry. Legolas wasn't here.  
  
"Come on, Gimli. I think he might've gone to a different."  
  
Suddenly, Aragorn that he saw something moving between a few of the rocks, though it was slight.  
  
Beside him, Gimli strained his eyes to see. "What is it?" he asked quietly.  
  
"I don't know. But I want to get a better look." Aragorn replied. Gimli nodded, and let Aragorn take the lead.  
  
Aragorn didn't have to go far. The figure eventually took a shape. He took a guess at what it was, and broke into a run. Fear gripped him as he ran. He repeated one word in his mind, over and over: No. No. No.  
  
He finally closed in on Legolas' limp figure. The Elf gazed up at him weakly, reaching towards him with an uplifted hand. A red wave caressed him like a lover might. Aragorn knelt next to his friend, and his stomach churned to see what a bloody mess the Elf was. His throat was slit, though Aragorn figured it wasn't deep. But if it was allowed to continue to spill his blood, it could become dangerous.  
  
Aragorn grasped Legolas by both shoulders and lifted him somewhat off the ground.  
  
"Legolas? Are you awake? What happened?" he asked him. Legolas looked right passed him with blank eyes, and Aragorn wondered if he was already too far gone. He brought the Elf closer and put a hand to his throat in a futile attempt to stop the bleeding.  
  
Gimli ran up beside them, panting as he leaned over Legolas' limp body. "Is. is he.?"  
  
Aragorn shook his head. "No. not yet, but we have to."  
  
Suddenly, the Elf writhed violently in his grasp. Startled, Aragorn set him back down in the sand. Legolas looked up at him, a terrified tone in his crystal eyes. The pace of his breath quickened. He opened his mouth to speak of some danger, but whatever it was, Aragorn couldn't make it out.  
  
Frustrated, Aragorn leaned in closer to try and hear his panicked friend. "What's wrong? Legolas!"  
  
Suddenly, Legolas threw his arms around Aragorn's neck, and pulled him to the ground. Aragorn landed on top of Legolas hard, knocking the Elf's breath away. He heard the sound of something hitting the water beside them, the spray catching them both. Aragorn pulled up sharply, catching Legolas' eyes with an unspoken question.  
  
Legolas looked up at him with a weakened smile. He struggled to raise himself, but Aragorn knew he'd never make it. With a gentle hand, he pushed the Elf back down. Legolas gave him an exasperated look.  
  
"I'm fine." the Elf spoke in a pained whisper. "I'm fine, just kill him."  
  
"Aragorn!" the Dwarf shouted suddenly. Startled, Aragorn turned to look behind him. Gimli was pointing to a figure in the distance, covered entirely in black, lowering his bow, and reaching for something in his cloak. He stopped when Aragorn looked up at him, like a child who had been caught in the act of doing something he had been warned against. Looking back, he saw the arrow floating back in forth in the waves.  
  
The pieces were starting to come together now. Aragorn gave the man an indignant glare, before turning back to Legolas. The Elf was unconscious now. Aragorn tore his sleeve, and wrapped the cloth around Legolas' bleeding neck, doing his best to ignore the hole the stranger was now burning into his back. Then, he stood, pulling his sword from it's sheath.  
  
He turned and held it up in a threatening gesture. "Coward," he spoke between his gritted teeth.  
  
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Find the cost of freedom, buried in the ground. Mother Earth will swallow you, lay your body down.  
  
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To quote Cary Elwes: "Prepare for the fight the fight scene!"  
  
*falls over* I know. I know. That sucked. But I promise the next one will be better! (Are you noticing a trend with these cliff-hangers? Never before has it taken me four fuckin' chapters to get through a single incident!!)  
  
Oh, by the way, the poem is not mine; unfortunately, I have no idea where it came from! My teacher gave it to me, and I thought it fit the "theme" for this story. If you can call it that. -_-' 


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